


The Frostbitten Past

by grumpy_tea_enthusiast



Category: Elder Scrolls
Genre: Bodyguard Romance, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25131955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpy_tea_enthusiast/pseuds/grumpy_tea_enthusiast
Summary: During the Third Era, King Hlaalu Helseth’s coronation caused a rift in the Great Houses of Morrowind. When House Hlaalu is told of a House Redoran plot to kidnap their councilman, Serilia Methis, the Grandmaster hires Frostblade, a mysterious and skilled mercenary, to escort the councilman safely beyond Morrowind’s borders. As Serilia discovers the identity of her hired sword, the truth behind some of Tamriel’s oldest legends is revealed in the process. Meanwhile, the Daedric Princes watch their every move.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character





	The Frostbitten Past

Solstheim, the Merethic Era

_ The Snow Prince stood on the balcony of the outpost built on the shore of Solstheim. The moon was full, bathing the land in a pale glow. Celethune had walked up the stairs to take her post there for the night. Her prince’s back was turned to her, and his cape swayed gently in the evening breeze. _

_ “Excuse me, Your Majesty,” she said. “It is my turn to take watch. You really should be resting.” _

_ The Snow Prince turned around. The moonlight outlined his angular face and long, pure white hair. “I just wanted to get one last look at my kingdom.” _

_ Celethune marched over to him, her steel armor  _ clanking!  _ with each step. “What are you saying…?” _

_ He shook his head with a pained smile. “I’m no fool, Knight-Paladin. The Nords outrank us. They’re vicious and cruel. I fear this may be the end.” _

_ Tears welled up in Celethune’s eyes. She knew it was true, but she refused to believe there was a bleak end to all this madness. _

_ The Snow Prince turned to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Look to the shore. See all that we’ve accomplished. Those large fortresses and places. We’ve harnessed magic. We are formidable warriors.” _

_ Though fog clung to the ground, Celethune could make out the vague, dark shapes of the buildings. She remembered her childhood, her training to become a Knight-Paladin, and her pilgrimage to the Wayshrines. She saw Auri-El once, and she would hold on to that memory forever. She wished she could only think of the happy memories, but the memory of the Nords pillaging and destroying their homes invaded her consciousness. She wanted this to be the end, so she would not have to think about what happened or what will happen. _

_ The Snow Prince looked into her eyes with a look that made her feel a pain in her chest. “I swear to Auri-El, we will not fall without a proper fight." _

Celethune drove her steel claymore into the neck of a Nord. She didn’t know who they were. The rage inside her was overwhelming, and she felt as though she was in a dream. The snow on Solstheim was stained red with blood under her feet. She turned to see another Nord aim their bow at her. She charged toward them before they could fire and kicked their chest. The Nord fell to the ground, and Celethune looked into their fear-filled eyes. She felt a twisted joy from seeing their expression, wanting every Nord to feel how she felt. Finally, she swung her claymore down, driving it into their neck.

Suddenly, the battlefield was quiet. Celethune looked up, and everyone seemed to be frozen in place. Across the field, she saw the Snow Prince on his white stallion. There was a sword in his breast.

Celethune’s vision blurred. She stumbled backward. Without the Snow Prince, she saw no reason to continue the fight. She had been refusing to believe their efforts were futile. Somehow, she wanted to return back to normal. Now, though, she saw the Snow Prince limply fall off his horse and knew all the Snow Elves were condemned to death. 

If she was condemned to death, though, she wouldn’t give a Nord the satisfaction of killing her. She ran towards the edge of the mountain and jumped. The wind hit her face, and she felt her limbs being tossed about in the air. Her side met a jagged rock, scraping her skin under her armor. She was thrown into a pine tree, and the branches cut her skin. Finally, she tumbled down a hill and was deposited at the base on her back. The impact broke several bones, and tears fell down her cheeks with the pain. 

Celethune saw the morning sky above her, pale blue with wispy clouds. A warm feeling filled her body. It was the same feeling she felt when she saw Auri-El. Her vision got blurrier, and the world became brighter.

“I’m ready, Auri-El,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I don’t want to be here anymore. Please, I want to be where you are.”

She closed her eyes, waiting for her god.


End file.
